Eternal Curiosity
by Pink Arrow Kagome
Summary: One-Shot . Non-AU . Miroku finally gives into a lifelong obsession...but who will his decision most affect? . Mir&San . Chacter Death . Very Sad . Please R


Author's Note: Please don't hit me. This is so incredibly angst/depressing for me!! As well as my first Sango/Miroku fiction…sorta. I warn you now, though, it's very odd, especially if you analyze it too much. By the way…his "desire" may or may not be what you think it is.

No, I'm not dumping Mistaken Identity. This is just a one-shot people! It's just a short thing that leaped into my mind and wouldn't go away until I had written it.

If you aren't a fan of sad stories, then don't read this. Otherwise, read on and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own Miroku or Sango. Or any other Inu characters for that matter.

**Eternal Curiosity**

The fire danced mischievously in the dark, casting flickering shadows on the group's faces as they gathered around it; not so much for warmth, but more for the reassuring light it cast around their darkened circle. One of the five figures crouched around the flames was particularly interested in its mystifying patterns.

            'Fire,' thought Miroku, his eyes intensifying as he gazed into the blazing depths, 'Such a mysterious element of nature. How could something so enchanting cause such destruction?'

            The fire crackled and twisted delicately in the air, mocking the monk's thoughts. Sighing, Miroku gazed through the twirling flames and subconsciously clenched and unclenched his right hand.

            His curse, so very similar to the fiery blaze dancing in front of him. His blasted Kazaana that had saved him so many times in battle, that would someday be the cause of his death, his ever-present, itching reminder of what he could never achieve…

            A family. With the possibility of death looming ahead in all its unexpectedness, he couldn't risk starting a family. He wouldn't be the cause of anyone's pain. Not if he could help it.

            But what he was most worried about wasn't unpredicted death; it was his burning curiosity.

            Day in and day out, his unreasonable desire grew stronger. He ached for it like a fire yearned for wood or oxygen. A dreadful, unattainable lust he could never fulfill. This curiosity of his had been with him since birth, and he doubted he could go much longer without giving into its will.

            Careful not to let his emotions show on his face, Miroku stood and addressed his companions, "I'm going to walk by the stream we passed earlier. Don't wait up for me, I need to think and I'm not sure how long I'll be gone." 

He spoke mainly to Sango, whose worry he could sense before he had even gotten through his short speech. Their eyes locked for a moment, and time seemed to stand still as her bright eyes reflected the firelight and sparkled like the dazzling midnight stars in the sky. 

She looked as if she were about to say something, try to dissuade him from going, but thought better of it and stopped herself. Miroku mentally thanked her for it. He didn't think he could have gone if Sango had pleaded with him not to. But he needed to do this.

Picking up his staff, Miroku calmly strode away from the firelight until he was beyond its searching beams. Then his tempo increased. Desperately, he tried to keep himself from breaking out into a full throttle run. The trees whizzed by into the blurred surroundings, but he hardly paid any attention to where he was going.

Finally, he came to a stop, panting slightly. No matter how hard he tried to leave it behind, his longing never left him. Shakily, he brought his gloved right hand to his face. It was so dark he could barely make out its outline, a faint glimmer giving away the positions of the pale blue rosary beads and his golden ring. 

Not with every ounce of his strength could he have brought himself to tear his eyes away from his palm. Gasping in ragged breaths, Miroku willed with all of his mind for him to simply lower his hand. An internal battle raged within his chest as he frantically fought against himself. With eyes screwed shut and a trickle of sweat running down his strained face, Miroku struggled.

But this was one fight where mind would not conquer over matter.

'Was this how my father died? Not merely a curse, but an unceasing obsession…?' Miroku stared bemusedly down at his hand.

With trembling fingers, Miroku slowly, ever so slowly, removed his rosary beads and released the awesome power from its sealed prison. Wild, uncontrollable winds burst from his palm in a furious storm. In the tumultuous frenzy of hurricane winds, Miroku lost all control.

Letting loose a strangled cry, Miroku whipped his right hand around to come face to face with a black hole, as dark and uninviting as the deepest pits of Hell. It was enough to make any creature's last moments on Earth fear-filled, but Miroku embraced the sight with a satisfied smile, accepting his fate.

His last words before being sucked into a never-ending turmoil were a mumbled, "I'm sorry…"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

            Two hours later, a worried Sango left in search of her friend. Stealing away from the sleeping campsite, she tread softly through the quiet forest.

            A feeling of death hung in the air.

            Shivering slightly, she continued forward, eyeing the twisted trees and gnarled roots carefully. Suddenly, with a muffled scream, Sango tripped over a protruding rock and fell to the ground…her hand landing on something hard and metal.

            Picking it up, she recognized it to be Miroku's staff - which he never went anywhere without.

            Fear gripped her as she quickly searched the surrounding area. Her probing hands swept away dry leaves and small pebbles in a desperate effort to find something, anything, that would give her some clue as to his whereabouts.

            Abruptly, her hand brushed over a smooth, round object. With quivering hands, she uncovered the dirty bead, brushing off the mud clinging to it.  Recognition immediately dawned on her.

            Miroku's prayer beads.

            "But," she tried to hold in the tears threatening to spill over, "he always has his rosary! It…seals his…" She couldn't contain the tears that leaked out of her eyes then. 

Through eyes blinded by droplets of salty water, she was hazily able to make out the few other beads sprinkled over the ground. Sobs wracked her body as she slumped onto the ground in a disheveled heap, the cool, glass bead clutched close to her heart.

            In between her cries, Sango managed to choke out, "So…I've lost the only other man…whose ever meant anything to me…" before, once again, collapsing into insuppressible tears.

~ ~ ~ End ~ ~ ~

Author's Note: Such a sad ending…I can't believe I wrote something like that! Well, I've never written anything like this before, so please let me know what you guys think. Mindless flames will be ignored, constructive criticism used and embraced, and reviews cherished. Thanks a bunch!


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